AN: Sorry this took so long guys! But I planned out the rest of the story! YAY!! And I had major writers block for a week! UGH!! Anyway R&R !
A week later the Abhorsen left again, leaving his daughter at the palace until the more dangerous Dead were subdued. Sabriel was of course not at all pleased with her father's decision but complied with his wishes none the less. Queen Rachelle had insisted that Sabriel stay in the palace.
Torrigan found himself growing more and more attracted to Sabriel and it scared him. She was just so...different...dark and pale where as all the other girls were fair and tanned. She had a silent dignity about her.
One morning Sabriel rose early, dressed and decided to go for an early morning walk. The cool damp air invigorated her. Smiling to herself, Sabriel took several deep breaths. The feeling of dew on her bare feet and the warm sunlight on her face thrilled her to the core. She heard birds chirping in the large trees standing protectively over a small dirt path. Under lazy eyelids, she watched a butterfly float from flower to flower.
Torrigan kept an alert eye on the waking city, searching for any disturbances from his eagle eyes view. He smartly marched from one tower to the next. He turned to make sure that inside the palace gates was as free from trouble as the city. His sharp grey eyes caught a glimpse of raven hair. His mouth opened a little in surprise. What was she doing up? He had not expected her out of her chamber for another hour or so yet. Surely no one else in the palace was awake except for the servants. When was his shift over?!
Sabriel strolled along past the Practice Courts but decided against swordplay this early in the morning. The young woman was startled when she heard the crunch of gravel shattering the dawn peace. Swiftly she turned around to face who ever it was that disturbed her. Her stern features broken into a smile as she witnessed Torrigan sprinting to catch up with her. Instead of slowly down, Sabriel sped up a little, a mischievous smile played across her lips.
"Sabriel!" Torrigan cried as he caught up with her, "that was cruel!"
Sabriel blinked innocently, "what was evil Torrigan? I have no idea why you made such a remark!" Torrigan glared at her, it would have been fierce if not for his smile.
"What are you doing up so early?" Torrigan asked as they kept strolling, "I didn't expect to see you until midday!" He teased her about her sleeping habits often and without mercy.
"Well! Look who should have gone to study as a court jester instead of a Royal Guard!" Sabriel stuck out her tongue, "If you must know I was feeling the urge to take a walk this beautiful morning. Not against the law is it?" Torrigan laughed and shook his head.
"Such impertinence! That mouth could very well have you killed one day!"
"I don't believe it will, I'm only impertinent to those who deserve it." They wandered aimlessly for a bit in silence, some times exchanging comments on the ball last night (in which they danced only together) or the games they remembered playing as children. They talked of their plans for their futures.
"I have little choice in the matter," Sabriel said resignedly, "I will follow in the footsteps of my father and his father and so on. But really, I can't imagine myself doing anything else."
"I know exactly how you feel. Even though I won't be taking the throne, which I don't want at all, I'll have to stay close to the palace. Or the only traveling I will do will be on diplomatic missions for the state." Torrigan sighed, a sudden thought worried him greatly, "you will promise to come back and visit won't you? I don't my want my swordsmanship to become rusty." He asked, suddenly anxious.
Sabriel laughed, "But what if the Kingdom is on the brink of war with the Dead? I fear I won't be able to come back just to duel with you." Torrigan took her hands in his and looked her straight in the eyes. The expression on his face was very serious.
"Just one more promise," Torrigan whispered gruffly, "promise to come back alive." Sabriel was taken aback by the strange glint in his eyes. She had never noticed it before. What did it mean?
"I will try," Sabriel promised. Torrigan was content with this for the moment. He quickly let go of her hands trying to keep the mortified look off his face and kept walking, full speed. How could he let his feelings get the better of him?! What was it about this...raven that was so alluring?
They walked in silence for a while and just before Torrigan was about to say something Sabriel took her leave. She rushed away from Torrigan's side. She pleaded to the Charter that Torrigan's strange behaviour didn't mean what she feared. Oh! Why did men always have to make a mess of perfectly good friendships? Sabriel did not even want to think about it. She rushed to the Practice Courts to beat the stuffing out of some poor dummy.
As Sabriel rushed off, Torrigan cursed his cowardice. Hadn't Rogir tried to teach him how to speak to ladies? Why didn't he listen?! As usual Rogir was right about everything. Torrigan would have given much to talk this fiasco over with his older brother right now. But then again, Rogir had been acting strange lately. Only coming to the palace once every few months and never staying more than a few days. What was Rogir planning?
Apologizing to the Arms Master for the damage she caused in the Practice Courts, Sabriel raced up to her chambers. She quickly changed into more suitable breeches and a tunic of midnight blue. Before Torrigan could catch up to her, Sabriel quickly passed under the gates to the city. What better place not to be found? With all the people pushing and shoving and cursing, trying to get their shopping done, there was no hope of finding anyone.
After a few hours wandering the crowded streets, Sabriel decided it was time she stopped running away and went back to face the music. Leaving behind the aroma of fish, fresh bread, baking and sweaty bodies, the young Abhorsen in training, strode boldly back through the gates. Nodding to the guards, she glanced quickly up at the ramparts and dashed into the palace.
Another thought struck her mind. She wondered if the Queen had had any word from her father lately. He said he would send word as soon as he had sent this Dead disturbance back behind the ninth gate. Sabriel had decided that one week was plenty of time! Perhaps she was just restless, she needed to get out of this confining castle!
Torrigan had been mentally beating himself for the past few hours. How could he have been so cowardly!! Why couldn't he tell her how much he wanted her, needed her to be near him. He decided that the Great Hall would be a perfect place to run "accidentally' into Sabriel. Knowing her, she would have grown impatient at her father's silence and would come to Queen Rachelle to ask for news.
There she was! A determined look graced her features as she headed to wards the throne where Queen Rachelle and King Corrigan sat after just having dismissed the last petitioner. Bowing deeply Sabriel approached the throne. Torrigan stayed in the shadows, if Sabriel saw him, she might bolt again and that was the last thing he wanted. He pressed himself against a wall, half hidden behind a tapestry depicting a battle scene.
"Your Majesties," Sabriel said respectfully, "I came to inquire if my father had sent any news as to inform myself of his well being. He told me that he would send word as soon as he had dealt with the Dead creature." Gracefully, her movements flowing, Queen Rachelle placed her hands on Sabriel's shoulders.
"No, the Abhorsen has not yet sent word, Sabriel," smiling reassuringly said the Queen. Recalling a fond memory, Rachelle gently touched Sabriel's cheek, "it still amazes me as to how well you have grown up." Sabriel smiled back. She loved the Queen well, who acted quite like she imagined a mother would towards her. The Queen had always been kind and generous to Sabriel and for that she was extremely grateful and loyal to the Queen.
Torrigan heard hurried footsteps just outside the large oak doors. Muffled voices, they sounded a tad frantic and he definitely heard someone trying to catch their breath. One door was thrown open with a startling crash. A travel worn and clearly out of breath young man rushed into the room. His eyes wide with something that looked almost like fear. He quickly made his way to the base of the thrones.
Bowing deeply, just like Sabriel had, the messenger handed a note to the king, bowing again.
"Your Highness," the messenger began, I bring sorrowful tidings," Sabriel's curiosity was peaked, "The Abhorsen.... is dead."